


In which Bilbo Baggins is not a morning person

by lozinja



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 22:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3095630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lozinja/pseuds/lozinja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blibo is not a morning person. And Thorin's completely fine with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which Bilbo Baggins is not a morning person

**Author's Note:**

> This is a result of a friend and I swapping headcanons about Bilbo not being a morning person and the amazing morning sex that he and Thorin would have as a result. I'm popping my fanfic cherry with this one so er, be gentle?

Bilbo was a lot of things but he was, under no circumstances, a morning person. 

Thorin had come to accept this early in their relationship. After one of the first times Bilbo had stayed the night, Thorin had attempted to be romantic and wake him up with breakfast in bed. He’d pulled out all the stops. Bacon, eggs, fluffy pancakes dripping in maple syrup, toast slathered in strawberry jam. The works. Everything that a man with seemingly hollow legs could possibly want to eat to regain his energy after a night of epic sex. In return for all his hard work, Thorn got a pillow to the face and some dark muttering as Bilbo burrowed further under his pile of blankets A second attempt at waking Bilbo had achieved similar results. 

Thorin had ended up eating the entire breakfast himself, then falling into a food coma. He’d never attempted breakfast in bed again. Well, not before ten o’clock anyway.

Bilbo not being a morning person meant that Thorin essentially had mornings to himself on the weekends. It meant that he could leisurely warm up for his morning run, then take the scenic route through the village that Bilbo and Thorin now called home. He nodded amicably to the people he passed and made his way to the village’s only bakery. 

The heavy smell of freshly baked bread hit him as soon as he opened the door, and he felt his stomach rumble in response. 

“Morning Thorin.” 

Thorin smiled and nodded at the man behind the counter “Morning Bombur. What do you suggest this morning?”

Bombur tapped at the glass counter above a large flaky pastry.

“The chocolate croissants. Just out of the oven, so the chocolate will still be a little gooey. Your Bilbo’s sweet tooth will adore them.” 

“Done. I’ll take two please.”

With his purchases safely ensconced in brown paper bags, Thorin made his way home to his still sleeping husband. 

 

The house was predictably silent when Thorin opened the door. On Sundays, Bilbo could be expected to sleep until noon given the chance. The only part of Bilbo that Thorin could see when he entered their room was a tuft of curly hair peeking out of the blankets, a sight that made Thorin smile softly to himself. Divesting himself of his running gear and leaving the still warm croissants on the bedside table, Thorin slipped into bed behind Bilbo, pulling the protesting man to his chest.

“’re all sweaty n smelly” Bilbo grumbled, ineffectually swatting at the arm Thorin had looped around his chest. Thorin ignored him and nuzzled into the nape of Bilbo’s neck, kissing the sleep warm skin there. 

“I picked up chocolate croissants from Bombur for you,” Thorin murmured against the back of Bilbo’s ear.

“'ll eat it later. We’ll get crumbs in the bed, otherwise.” Bilbo muttered, pushing himself more firmly into the curve of Thorin’s body. 

“I thought I was smelly and sweaty?”

“Shut it you.” Biblo grumbled, swatting at Thorin’s arm again. After a moment he added, “I don’t mind you smelly and sweaty.”

Thorin huffed in amusement, then settled in, half intending on going back to sleep with Bilbo. Some of his very favourite moments with Bilbo were ones exactly like this- the quiet times when they were just able to be with each other, skin touching and without the need to fill up the silence with inane chatter. If they could spend the rest of their lives wrapped up together in this cosy little cocoon of blankets and pillows, Thorin would be extremely happy. 

Through the haze of contentment and impending sleep, Thorin became aware of Bilbo’s backside pressing rather insistently against his groin. Thorin cracked an eyelid and peered over Bilbo’s shoulder to catch a glance of his face. Bilbo’s eyes were closed, but by the slight smirk on his face, he was clearly feigning sleep.

“Bilbo, are you trying to get something?”

“I can’t answer you. I’m asleep.” Bilbo said matter of factly, his smirk broadening.

“Is that right? You wouldn’t happen to be asleep to make me do all the work, would you?” 

“I can’t answer that. I’m asleep, remember?”

“Cheeky bugger.”

Bilbo stifled a laugh, then schooled his face back into pseudo sleep. Thorin smiled into Bilbo’s shoulder, then reached across him for the lube on the bedside table. 

“Is there anything that you’re after in particular?” 

“Sleeping.”

“Right.”

Gently, Thorin hitched Bilbo’s top leg up, giving him more access to his spectacular arse. Honestly, if he were inclined that way, Thorin was quietly confident that he’d be able to write epic poetry about that bum.

As it was, he gave both cheeks a fond squeeze, then parted them to press a lubed finger inside. Bilbo sighed happily, pushing back onto Thorin’s finger. Thorin took a moment to enjoy that hot tight heat-the incredible intimacy of what he was doing that never quite stopped making his breath hitch- before easing another finger in. 

They spent several heavy moments like that- Thorin mouthing at the nape of Bilbo’s neck and moving his fingers in and out of Bilbo at a languid pace, Bilbo’s breath hitching every time Thorin grazed his prostate- before Thorin pulled his fingers away. Bilbo whined in protest, which Thorin gentled with a flurry of kisses along his jaw line.

“Just a second, sweetheart.”

Lubing up his cock, Thorin wasted no time hitching Bilbo’s leg higher, then easing himself inside, sighing when his hips sat flush against Bilbo’s arse. It was like coming home. 

Bilbo’s mewling hadn’t ceased, so he wasted no time in setting up a languid rhythm, concentrating on hitting Bilbo’s prostate as often as possible. 

And this. This was exactly why Thorin didn't mind that Bilbo wasn’t a morning person, that he grumbled and buried himself under blankets when he could get away with it. It meant that they could have this lovely, honey thick morning sex, all lazy and intimate enough to make his toes curl.

Of course the moment couldn’t last forever, and Bilbo began to push himself more insistently back onto Thorin’s cock as Thorin began to feel the stirrings of his own orgasm deep in the pit of his stomach. Thorin managed to push himself up on an elbow, pressing Bilbo further into the mattress to give himself more purchase. 

Bilbo had given up all pretence of being asleep, and was pushing back to meet Thorin’s thrusts, gasping as Thorin’s free hand moved from splaying across his belly to griping his cock.

“Come on sweetheart. Come with me.” Thorin panted into his ear. Bilbo reached blindly behind him stabbing his fingers into Thorin’s hair to bring their mouths together in a messy kiss. The angle was completely wrong and their lips grazed across each other more than properly meeting, but it meant that Thorin was able to catch Bilbo’s cry as he came all over his hand, swallowing it greedily. Bilbo’s body went lax against him, allowing Thorin to thrust heedlessly within him until his orgasm caught him and left him shaking against Bilbo’s sweaty back. 

 

They lay there panting for several moments, before Bilbo pulled away- wincing at the feeling of Thorin pulling out of him- to turn in Thorin’s arms and press kisses into his lover’s flushed face. 

“Good morning,” he murmured, brushing Thorin’s hair away from his face. 

Thorin cracked an eyelid to grin at him. “Good morning.”

“Should we eat the croissants now?” 

“No, later, sleep now.”

Far be it from Bilbo to argue with such sound logic. He burrowed himself into the juncture of Thorin’s shoulder and let sleep take him again. 

 

They fed the croissants to each other in flaky sticky mouthfuls when they woke up later on. Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to complain about the crumbs they were getting all through the bed.


End file.
